Charismatic Captor

Jonathon had to wait three days before anyone had come by, to then help hoist him up and out of the well. 

During this time Fatima had lost herself also. On the first day Jon went missing she left for the town to go look for him … and did not return.

Fatima had met with a charismatic captor, who had beguiled her into a faraway journey, in which she, in her innocence, became subject to his magic, and had been restrained from ever returning back to Jon alive.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Reaping the Whirlwind

Everyone knows in Faerie to avoid the whirlwind when it is billowing throughout the realm.

On ancient maps you can see the faces of the north wind and of the south, of the east, and of the west, blowing across the parchment, with good nature, showing their characters to be most noble.

But the whirlwind has not such a divine pedigree. Its voracity will pull one into a dark heart with a centrifugal force, and draw you into its whirring depths - often sucking the victim into the portal of its dark matter.

The whirlwind of itself holds no malcontent. It is but the dark angel of Karmic rage. The wraith of cause and effect. The veritable sword of Damocles, the cosmic sweeper collecting up the mess of Mankind .

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Dark Well

A little bird had told him that it was not safe to collect the water at night - it had tried to caution Jonathon, however, not being conversant in bird speak he had ignored the chattering, and persisted.

Jonathon had leaned into the well a little too far and when the wet pail had slipped from his grasp, and as he instinctively moved forward to catch it, he landed flat onto a cross beam some five foot down.

There was a crude fretwork of wooden beams holding the sides of the hole from collapsing, and Jonathon had managed to hold onto one above his head, whilst balancing on the wood beneath. The grimy footing was only inches wide.

He thought of Fatima, and of how he loved her so. It had only been a handful of weeks they had spent together, after she had found him at this very well, at a time when he had lost all direction.

He wished he was on the other side of its wall now. Frightened to move, lest he would slip down even further, he began to call out, even though he knew there would be no one to hear him. This community never ventured outdoors at night, as they were generally too vexed with whatever malady confined them there. He was, by their standards, the fittest amongst them. It would be a long cold wait until morning.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

His Maria

A young woman was sitting on a stone seat at the far edge of the garden. With the light behind her, he could see through the linen dress draped over her shoulders, a fine form defined in haloed silhouette.

She smiled with recognition, as he made his way to her side.

“Come lie beside me Jacob”, she said taking his knobbled hand, and placing it in her lap.

He could see now that she resembled the marble statue of a young woman reclining over the tomb that she and he was sitting upon. It was not a garden seat after all, but a slab that covered a coffin.

“Maria? my Maria?”

“Heaven is good and kind, dear husband. And I have waited now so long for you. Step out of your decrepitness and come to me now, as you have done before.”

He pulled away. He wanted to be with her, yet he was frightened. The wraith took up some of the morning light and became semi transparent, her presence was thinning. She looked at him lovingly before vanishing completely.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Broken Fiddle

The old man looked down at the splintered wood of his violin and cursed the diddle-o under his breath. His son had never respected him - and now he had taken his only joy. Life would never be the same. “My heart is aching for my beloved fiddle.” He cursed again.

His only chair was in splinters also. The tall grain bag had been split and scattered the floor. There was blood on the tiles - Jacob’s blood - from where he had hit his head.

“That boy was never any good”, he muttered to himself.

The sun was beginning to rise, and he did not feel cold of it, but rather strangely warm. The elderly man fumbled for the latch, the door was already open.

Outside, the air smelt of Spring. A golden light permeated the garden, and lit the flowers, nudging them to open. Jacob blinked at its brightness.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Toast

“You can see me?” he [Puck] asked, this time dissolving into their common space and floating up into the ceiling.

“Yes, I can still see you” she said, now a little sarcastically.

“What about now?” he asked, surrounding himself with the strongest glamour he had to muster.

“Yep” Eve said, taking off her shoes and walking into the hall to find her indoor slippers.

Puck followed her.

Eve went into her small kitchen and dropped two slices of grainy bread into the silver toaster. Puck followed.

She put the kettle on, and he was still hanging around.

Eve was well used to spirits shadowing her, but was beginning to notice something very different about this one. She looked over her shoulder … he was eating her toast.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Shooing the Ghosts

~ Truth is the nucleus to which all philosophies circulate. ~

Crowded in the corner was a huddle of ghosts. They seemed to be watching his every move. Puck got up from the couch to shoo them on.

“Stop! what are you doing?”

“A little house-cleaning - you seem to have some unwanted guests.” Puck said well pleased with himself.

Eve objected. “I don’t know what you think you are doing here, but they are my friends. The only unwanted visitor is you.”

She instantly felt she had gone a bit far in saying this, but he had startled her. By all appearances this ghost had got a little taller, and somewhat bossy.

The group in the corner moved in a little closer. Needles was amongst them. There was a collection of great aunts and uncles, and a few unrelated spirits, who Eve had recently met during readings.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Black Harvest

“I am Smithy - Jon Smithy - from down yon.” He pointed to the valley in the distance where the village of the Haverlock shouldered. He had stayed the night by the well, having no particular direction to travel.

“I am Fatima.” she hesitated, biting her lip and crinkling her brow, she went on “Sir, you have come into to the district of the Black Harvest. The people who live here, have come here, to die. We are, well, we are … kept separate from the healthy - and have been banned from normal life. Some say that we are cursed. If you are not one of us, you should probably leave."

Jon was unafraid of such things. He had heard of these communities, but had never before come upon one let alone ventured in.

“Should you not have a signpost of warning?” he asked, still mumbling from tiredness.

“Yes, Sir, there are many”, she said pointing to one, just yards away from them. It was a single stick with a scull and crossbones burnt within the wood.

He started to weep. Jonathon had never really cried like this - not even when his Ma had been buried, nor, throughout the passage of the last few days, when he had lost his father, his income, his tools, and his way. But now, in a rush, the sadness came upon him, and he wept like one who can hold the tides no more.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Communal Well

As Fatima approached the communal well, with Peter and Paul slowly lumbering along behind her, she could see a young man on the ground, lying upright with his back to the stone, fast asleep.

The warmth of the sun was accelerating, and his cap was tipped over his face: it was impossible to see his providence, or age - however his mud-soiled clothing spoke of destitution.

She hesitated at proceeding further. Perhaps it was best to turn back before he was roused to wake? Yet the dogs needed their watering, and had gone ahead of her, right up to the stranger, with their eager panting, whining and yelping enthusiastically.

“Shush” she scolded.

The two obeyed faithfully, and then returned to stand to the right and left of her. Fatima could see that the young man was watching the hounds with a broad smile on his face.

“All bones in velvet suits” he said with a tired smile.

She could see he was exhausted as he still sat there: this youth, she guessed, was but a few years older than herself, and by the look of his dark curly hair and grey eyes, there was something of the gypsy about him.

She took a stub of dried meat from her apron pocket, that she kept for the dogs and offered it to him. He accepted it gratefully. Paul appeared genuinely dismayed.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Observing

“You are observant” he said candidly.

“Yes” she said, with her gaze wandering all about him. Eve could also see the auric glow, which like a rosy sunrise rayed out some feet around him. Because of this, she did not feel afraid. A malevolent spirit could not produce an aura like this.

Puck was becoming a little unnerved by this unusual mortal - and decided there and then it would be best to make himself invisible. Moments later she was still just watching him as before, and he, her.

Once again Eve had mistaken a Fae for a ‘departed’ human spirit. Although her perception was developed, her clairvoyance had never seen the Sprites in the sunshine, the Elementals that swing from the shimmering trees, the thought-creatures that run hither and thither, the Goblins at the feet of the poker machines and the bars, the sad Elves who inhabit the libraries, the Jinn of the underground volcanoes, the Sylphs of cloud and sea, the familiars of the family pets, the fay ‘guides’ of the mediums, and the marshals of the woods and valleys - not a one.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Back Seat Dwarf

The Dwarf at the back was annoyingly kicking his seat from behind. Eve stopped the car, they had arrived outside her London flat. It was ground floor, with a basement bedroom.

They both followed her in. Puck wasn’t ready to walk away just yet, there was something about this young woman that he found mesmerising. She slumped her bag onto a broad feather filled couch and sat beside it. Her long black hair had loosened from her pony tail, it framed well her melancholy face, contrasting her pale white skin, even whiter since the afternoon’s toll. 

Although in her early thirties, Eve had never once been tempted to wear makeup of any kind. She sported a natural style, natural flair and natural grace, that truly reflected her persona from within, surrounded by an aura of natural perfection.

She had remembered all that took place now, and Puck read her thoughts (he could do this) and as it all came back to her, he could see that she saw him also. She was watching him look at her and genuinely bewildered as to who or what he might be.

He returned her stare - and, interestingly, when he changed his own eyes from brown into violet, she asked him outright, “Why are you doing that?”

Eve did not say this accusatively, it was more that she was curious and wanted to know more about the presence before her.

Puck was mildly taken aback as no other mortal had ever noticed him doing this. He ordinarily projected a ‘glamour’ about himself that presented as he would have it - and this overall impression seemed to be universally accepted, without question.

“You are observant” he said candidly.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Luck of the Irish

Puck could see distinctly the large diamond that was rolling at his feet on the floor of the vehicle where it had dropped. It had impressed radiant blue and purple sparks over his boot. Even without much light, it could speak in rainbows. He clicked open his seat belt and picked the rock up finding it heavy and cold to the touch.

Puck had heard of this stone, if it is the one he thought it might be: Irish. It was called that in recent legend, as it was said to have the ‘luck of the Irish’ - i.e. none. This stone had a reputation for bringing bad luck to whoever held it … and the car crash (now averted) seemed to confirm it.

He, on the other hand, was not at all worried by its powers of ill. Puck had magic bags for such things, that, with a nuclear force, could contain any Jinn, Sprite, or hazardous Diamond, if need be, indefinitely.

“Now I have saved you twice”, he said, well satisfied with himself.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

A Happy Finding

The basket itself could not be refurbished, for the smell lingered, and so Jonathon then made a fire, breaking the woven cane with a few snaps, and in doing so, he saw glinting in the firelight beside - a piece of gold that had been caught in the weave had now loosened and dropped to the dirt. It was an earring.

He turned it over in his hands - it was wonderfully fashioned. A golden hoop with a cast of blue Sapphires. It occurred to him that its golden partner might be buried where he had lain it, but the thought of digging up the head did not feel proper, however tempting. He carefully lay the earring onto a sieve and washed it in the trough, with a final rinse of what was left of his drinking water. He then solemnly placed it through the hold in his ear, and snap, it fitted perfectly. Well pleased with his find, and how his prospects had changed, he settled onto his bed and slept soundly til dawn.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

     

Burying the Stranger's Head

With the arrival of the laggard slave-master, Jonathon had one more reason, a very good reason, to move on. Isabelle had taken his tools, and a life in service to this heathen would be torturous indeed - to both himself and to those he facilitated. Perhaps Jamaica?

If I persist on this roundy-bout, he said to himself, I shall then be slave to them also - and so, all told, I needs must go. And that was that.

As the sun began to fade, Jon took a flat thin piece of iron and used it to dig a hole beneath the fir tree - but the roots beneath resisted, and so he gave up, and moved to the vegetable patch instead, where the soil had been worked, and therein he tipped (now in the half dark) the stranger’s head. He dutifully said a few prayers whilst laying the covering soil, and placed a cross made of two branches twined above, to deter anyone else from digging there.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Strangely at Peace

Alystraea 

“I have come to ask you if you would prefer to return … there is a way back into the Earth - if you and your daughter would like to come with me.”

A small tear glistened in the Grandmother’s eyes.

As he has asked this all important question, Patricia saw her life play out right before her, and also, that of her young child’s. It wasn’t the usual review of things past, but of those events which were yet to be.

Without hesitation, both she and her toddler took his outstretched hands, and before any time had passed, they were back in their family wagon driving past the very intersection where they had been curtailed before.

They kept driving until arriving home. Molly was asleep in her ‘safety seat’ and Patrica carried her into her cot. She had a thunderous headache, yet felt strangely at peace. All she could think of was, what should she prepare for dinner?

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Staring Eye to Eye

“Mama, what is that funny man doing?” Molly asked, looking over her mother’s shoulder at Puck who was waving at them.

Her Grandmother had seen him also, but had decided to keep it to herself.

Patricia turned around and suddenly Puck was staring eye to eye, so closely she could feel his gaze. He had an enormous cowboy hat and violet eyes. He could change the colour of his eyes at will, and found violet very persuasive. She felt that she could trust him.”

“Are you a long lost relative?” she asked.

“No, nothing like that,” he hurriedly said - as the seconds afforded him were few. Even though the time ratios were completely apart from the material world, it was important to be speedy, nonetheless.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series